The devil turned and eyed the T.V. curiously, giving Miss Twilley an excellent view of his tail which protruded through a slit in his cloak. She eyed it with apprehension and distaste. "Ah--I see," the devil murmured, "a third order electronic communicator transformed to a sixth order generator by an accidental short circuit. Most interesting. The statistical chances of this happening are about 1.75 to the 25th power, give or take a couple of hundred thousand. You are an extremely fortunate human." "That's not what I would call it," Miss Twilley said. * * * * * The devil smiled, an act that made him look oddly like Krishna Menon. "You _are_ disturbed," he said, "but you really needn't keep projecting such raw fear. I have no intention of harming you. Quite the contrary in fact." Miss Twilley wasn't reassured. Devils with British accents were probably untrustworthy. "Why don't you go back to hell where you came from?" she asked pettishly. "I wish," the devil said with a shade of annoyance in his beautifully modulated voice, "that you would stop using those terminal 'l's', I'm a Devi, not a devil--and my homeworld is Hel, not hell. One 'l', not two. I'm a species, not a spirit." "It makes no difference," Miss Twilley said. "Either way you're disconcerting, particularly when you come slithering out of my T.V. set." "It might give your television industry a bad name," the Devi agreed. "But there are many of your race who claim the device is an invention of mine." "I don't enjoy being frightened," Miss Twilley said coldly. She was rapidly recovering her normal self-possession. "And I would have felt much better if you had stayed where you belonged and minded your own business," she finished. "But my dear young lady," the Devi protested. "I never dreamed that I would frighten you, and besides you _are_ my business." He smiled gently at the suddenly re-frozen Miss Twilley. I must be dreaming, Miss Twilley thought wildly. This has to be a nightmare. After all, this is the Twentieth Century and there are no such things as devils. "Of course there aren't," the Devi said. "I only hope I wake up before I go stark raving mad!" Miss Twilley murmured. "Now he's answering before I say anything." "You're not asleep," he said unreassuringly. "I merely read your mind." He grimaced distastefully. "And what a mass of fears, inhibitions, repressions, conventions and attitudes it is! Ugh! It's a good thing for your race that minds like yours are not in the majority. It would be disastrous. Or do you realize you're teetering on the verge of paranoia. You are badly in need of adjustment." "I'm not! You're lying! You're the Father of Lies!" she snapped.